Conversations in a Quidditch Stand
by Ally147
Summary: *Written for the Twin Exchange July 2014 Challenge* "Did you take a wrong turn, Granger?" D/Hr, Post-Hogwarts, EWE


I'm currently in between fest stories and more than a little burnt out on them, so I thought I'd give another Twin Exchange Challenge a go! Definitely not my finest work, but fun to write all the same.

Pairing: **Hermione/Draco**; Prompt: **Quidditch Try-Outs**; Quote: **"Have you seen my brain? I seem to have misplaced it."**

'Conversations in a Quidditch Stand'

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><p>"Did you take a wrong turn, Granger?"<p>

Hermione groaned to herself and tore her worried gaze away from the near massacre playing out in the sky in front of her, finding Draco Malfoy, in a perfectly tailored, charcoal-grey suit – tie gone, two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone – in the row behind her. His long frame was reclined in his chair with his leather-shod feet crossed and resting on the one in front of him, his messy white-blond hair falling carelessly over his eyes, his hands folded and perched on his stomach. He looked every bit the fabled Slytherin Sex God, and she took a begrudging, albeit lingering moment to acknowledge and admire what so many women – and men – saw in him physically.

A damn shame he didn't have the personality to match.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have a reason, Malfoy," she replied through gritted teeth as she turned back to, and cringed at, the scene unfolding in front of her.

His smirk was shark-like as he followed her eyes to where Ron was unsuccessfully attempting to block the highest Quidditch hoop from a steady stream of Quaffles. "Are you so sure about that? From what I can see, not even Weasley has a good enough reason to be here."

She glared at him, but privately she couldn't help but agree. This was the fifth try-out Ron had attended in the past two months without so much as a Floo call back. It hadn't affected his determination though, and while Hermione could normally admire that kind of fortitude, she was _this close_ to wishing Ron would just take the hint already.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, her tone one of cool disinterest. "You're certainly not dressed for try-outs, and I can't imagine that you would follow me up here for no reason."

"I'm here in a strictly official capacity, overseeing the construction of my new team. I am perfectly dressed for the occasion. I may not be their biggest fan" – he tugged at the lapel of his blazer jacket – "but Muggles have an intriguing aptitude for business wear. Far nicer than robes. Witches seem rather fond of suits, too," he added with a sly, sidelong glance at her.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

Draco smirked. "About the team or the suit?"

"The team!" she exclaimed, almost leaping out of her seat to seize him by those ridiculously soft looking lapels. "What do you mean, _your_ team?"

"I own the Chudley Cannons, Granger." He chuckled at her stunned expression. "The former owner was shamed out of town, as is bound to happen when one owns a team that goes without a win for so bloody long. The club was near bankrupt, so the asking price was obscenely low."

"But why?" Hermione questioned, genuinely confused. "I thought your affiliation was to the Falmouth Falcons? Why would you buy out the Cannons?"

"Keeping tabs on me are you, Granger?" He laughed at her blush – a genuine, honest to goodness laugh that transformed his entire demeanour, and that she was loath to admit even made her swoon just a little bit – then gave a lazy, indolent shrug of his narrow shoulders. "I'd have been a fool not to buy. Plus, with my position, I'm able to build a new team, a team that will actually win games, not to mention do away with that garish orange. I'm thinking Slytherin green with some silver highlights. Perhaps I'll even change the club name to the Chudley Cobras. Any thoughts?"

Hermione let out a huffing little laugh and shook her head. "I think that would quite literally break Ron's heart."

Draco grinned, revealing an even row of bright white teeth. "Excellent. But why are you here, Granger? Your long overdue split from the Weasel was publicised in every gossip-mongering rag from here to Timbuktu." He paused then tensed. "You're not back together with him, are you?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, perhaps a little too quickly and a little too loudly. She cleared her throat and added, "No. Definitely not. I'm only here for… moral support, I suppose."

Draco let out a deep breath, and she was puzzled to note that he sounded almost relieved.

"Good. You're far too good for him."

"I… uh, thanks, Malfoy," stuttered Hermione, averting her eyes back to the pitch and letting out a squeak as Ron nearly lost control of his broom while attempting a risky dive to the lower hoop. In the background, the prospective Chasers let out a great cheer. Behind her, Draco let out a derisive snort.

"I can tell you how this ends if you like, Granger, if you'd rather skip the horror show."

"No need," she said with a sigh. "I can guess."

The following two hours was a tragic comedy of errors as very few of the attendees proved themselves to be anything more than third tier material, but Hermione didn't think she had ever laughed so hard as when Draco moved to the seat next to her and began providing exaggerated, hilarious commentary for the pitiful proceedings in a snarky deadpan.

"Oh, Merlin, Malfoy, that's just mean!" she managed through giggles in response to his scathing summation of one of the prospective Seekers' performances.

"It's true!" he retorted in between his own chuckles. "Really, Granger, the bloke can't even fly one-handed and he's wearing corrective goggles! This" – he consulted a list of sign-ups from in his pocket – "Aiden Montgomery would be a piss-poor Seeker. And that heavy set fellow trying out for the Beater position?" Draco cleared his throat and continued in a deep, slurred mockery of speech, "Hello, have you seen my brain? I seem to have misplaced it. Absolute moron," he finished in his regular voice.

"Firstly," Hermione began once her laughter had subsided again, "I'd like to remind you that Harry wore his glasses when he played, and he routinely wiped the pitch with you if I recall correctly. And second, brute or not, that Beater fellow has a decent swing. He could be an asset."

"His 'decent swing', as you call it, has already sent two prospective Chasers to St. Mungo's," he pointed out with a teasing flick to her nose. "Two of the better ones, I might add. And does Potter own a Quidditch team? No, he does not, so your argument that he routinely beat me at Hogwarts is a moot point, because I'm winning now."

"You are incredibly childish, Malfoy, and simply nonsensical. Did you know that?"

"I prefer whimsical. It sounds far more forgiving."

"Sounds like sugar-coating your shortcomings, more like."

"Pure-bloods never discuss anything other than the niceties in public, I'll have you know. Criticism is done behind closed doors, as is proper in polite society, and is usually so scornful that it's a wonder the wallpaper doesn't strip from the acidity."

Hermione let out a little snort. "Pure-blood society sounds like a bore."

"Not if you're the one who gets to be scornful as opposed to the one being scorned."

"You've got an answer for everything, don't you?"

He paused. "No, not quite everything. Most things, definitely, but there's one thing I'm very curious about that I have no answers for."

Intrigued, Hermione pressed, "And what might that be, Malfoy?"

Draco took her hand lightly in his and turned to fix her with a steeled, albeit nervous expression. His grey eyes flashed with something vulnerable and he took a deep breath. "Would you join me for dinner this Saturday, Granger?"

"Dinner?" she repeated, dumbstruck. "With you?"

He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, her hand still in his grasp. "No, with one of Weasley's garden gnomes. Of course with me!"

"Really?" Hermione sighed with mock disappointment. "A shame, the prospect of dinner with a garden gnome sounded most interesting."

"Yes, I'm sure you could make scintillating conversation all night about a possible garden gnome liberation front, complete with a full set of rules pertaining to their humane treatment so as to further piss off pure-bloods in Britain, but it will have to wait." He looked at her imploringly. "Come to dinner with me."

"I don't know, Malfoy." She chewed at her bottom lip. "I've had fun with you today, but –"

"But what?" he cut in, his eyes glinting with fierce determination. "We're adults, Granger, we owe explanations to no one but ourselves. If you don't want to join me, say no for your own reasons, not for any of that tripe about Potter or any number of Weasleys not approving. Besides," he went on with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, "how often does one get an invitation to dine with the owner of the Chudley Cannons?"

She laughed again, then touched a hand to her aching cheeks. She hadn't laughed like she had today in over a year. Perhaps she should take a chance on Draco Malfoy; gorgeous, smart, shrewd and apparently hilarious. Who would have thought?

"Alright."

"What?"

She smirked at his shock. "I said yes. I'll go to dinner with you on Saturday."

He smiled; a true smile, too, that lit up his face entirely and took him from gorgeous to devastatingly handsome in a heartbeat. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "You won't regret this, Granger."

"I'm sure I won't," she said with a smile. Turning then, she looked out over the pitch and saw the players setting up for a practice match, Ron and his distinctive red hair taking up place as Keeper at the hoops at the other end of the ground. She sighed and slumped in her seat. "And just when I thought this was nearly over."

"Not to worry, Granger." He leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear. "I haven't even started on the Chasers yet."

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Finally I'm back with some new material! Fest work truly is a kick up the arse, but so much fun at the same time! Zip on over to my profile for a better update on what's happening on the fest front.

A review would be awesome, and if you liked this piece, a vote when the Twin Exchange Challenge stories got to poll later this month would be epic, and make sure to check out the other entries while you're there, too.


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